


The Great Potter Proposal

by AelinElentiya



Series: Harry Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 01:20:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6174590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AelinElentiya/pseuds/AelinElentiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How exactly did Harry Potter propose to Ginny Weasley? </p><p>As usual with his plans, nothing goes smoothly, but Harry is determined that everything will be perfect when he proposes to Ginny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Potter Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little one shot I came up with, because I love writing proposals and you can’t go wrong with a bit of romantic Hinny.  
> (PS. We’re going to assume that Harry eventually mastered Non-Verbal spells when he became an Auror, okay?)

The Great Potter Proposal  
(Or: When Harry proposed to Ginny) 

 

One would think that, after all he’d faced in the last twenty-two years, Harry Potter would be unafraid of anything. That the task in front of him would be unflinchingly easy, but the truth remained: Harry Potter was absolutely terrified at what was before him. He had already rehearsed what he was going to say a thousand times, but actually doing it... That was an entirely different story.  
This is what you want, he reminded himself, as he stood a few paces away from the front door of the Burrow. He knew it would only be Molly and Arthur home—he had planned it perfectly. You have nothing to worry about.  
Harry took a deep breath, and walked up to the door. He lifted his hand, knocked twice, and held his breath as he waited for it to open.  
“Harry!” Molly exclaimed happily a moment later, beaming at him. “What’re you doing here in the middle of the week? Not that I’m not happy to see you, of course.”  
“Er, actually. I. I came to see Arthur,” Harry said.  
Molly just beamed wider, a twinkle in her eyes. “Of course. He’s in the kitchen. Come in,” she said.  
Harry followed her into the house. The Burrow had been a home to him for so many years. Outside of Hogwarts, the Burrow was the first place he ever felt like he belonged. Here, he had understood what it was like to be a real family. Here, he was loved and cared for like a son. He had more respect for Molly and Arthur than he would ever let them know. And it was only because he respected them and he knew there were traditions—traditions he was going to uphold—that he was here now.  
“Arthur,” Molly called as they walked into the kitchen. “Harry’s here to see you.”  
Harry tried very hard not to gulp when Arthur looked up. He was sitting in his chair at the kitchen table, reading the morning’s Daily Prophet. He had gotten older in the years Harry had known him, and his hair was turning white and his face was wrinkled with age. “Er, hi. Sorry to come by uninvited,” Harry said, “but I was wondering if I might speak to you? Alone? For a moment?”  
Arthur and Molly exchanged a look. Arthur nodded, and Molly left the room. Harry sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. “I’ve been anticipating this conversation for a few years now,” Arthur said, smiling.  
Harry gulped. He knew—of course he knew. They must have discussed it, the two of them—Molly and Arthur—when Harry was finally going to ask what needed to be asked, as it was tradition. Though Ginny had said he needn’t bother, Harry was determined to do this properly. “Okay,” Harry said. “Well. I was... I know a lot of people don’t bother to do so anymore, but I respect you and Molly for all you have done for me, so I wanted to ask.”  
“Then ask away,” Arthur said.  
Harry took a small breath. He shouldn’t feel this nervous. There was no reason to. “I wanted to ask... If I could... That is, do I have your blessing, to ask for Ginny’s... to ask for her hand in marriage?” He was stuttering, and he could hardly look at Arthur, and he was sure his cheeks were flaming.  
Arthur, however, was positively beaming. “Of course you do,” Arthur said. “Harry, I have thought of you as a son, you know, for quite some time. And I owe you my life, and the lives of my children many times over. You saved Ginny. Without you, I would not be sitting here today, to even give my blessing. So, yes. Of course you have my blessing.”  
Harry exhaled in relief, finally looking up. “Thank you, Arthur,” he said.  
“You know,” Arthur said. “You can call me Dad, if you want. I will be your father-in-law, soon enough.”  
Harry was trying to hold back tears. “Well then, Dad,” he said. But his voice cracked on the word and tears shed anyway.  
“Let me tell you something, son,” Arthur said. “It is a father’s greatest wish for his daughter is that she will find someone to love her and treat her well. For her to be happy. I always prayed Ginny would find that someone, and she has. She has.”  
Harry smiled. “She can be a bit of a handful at times, but I do love her,” he said. “Truly. More than anything.”  
“I know,” Arthur said, smiling as well. “But knowing how Ginny is, I suppose now is a good time to wish you luck.”  
They both started laughing, and Harry felt an enormous sense of joy. Despite the initial terror he’d felt only moments ago, he was happier than he’d ever been before.  
He couldn’t wait to ask Ginny to marry him. 

 

***

 

Everything, so far, was going miserably. Harry had planned out the perfect night weeks ago, the night he was going to ask Ginny to marry him, but of course, on the actual day, everything had to go terribly wrong.  
“What do you mean, you lost the ring?” Harry demanded when Ron suddenly appeared in his office that morning. He had entrusted Ron with the ring, as he didn’t want Ginny to accidentally find it in his nightstand drawer. She had a habit of looking through drawers when she was bored, and he knew she was bound to find it if he left it in the house. So he had entrusted the ring to Ron’s keeping, instructing Hermione not to let him lose it,. But of course, that very thing had happened.  
“I can’t find it,” Ron said. “I swear it was in the top drawer of my dresser this morning, and then, when I went to go look for it to bring it here like you said, it was just... Gone. Hermione’s searching the flat right now.”  
“For your sake, you better pray really hard that she finds it. Because if this goes wrong because of you, Ron, I’m seriously going to kill you,” Harry said. “I can’t believe it. I knew it. I knew something like this would happen. I should’ve given it to someone else.”  
Ron looked upset. “What, so now you don’t trust me? C’mon, mate,” he said. “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean for it to happen.”  
“Of course not,” Harry sighed. “Look. Everything’s going wrong today. First I find out the Harpies’ field isn’t available for tonight, then I find out that there’s something wrong with the florist and they can’t deliver the flowers to your parent’s in time. And then, to top it all off, the bloody ring is lost. How am I supposed to propose if there’s no ring to do it with?”  
“I’m sorry, mate. Really, I am,” Ron said again. “Hey. If the Harpies’ pitch isn’t available, maybe try Hogwarts? I’m sure McGonagall would let you use it for tonight.”  
Harry considered. “Actually, that’s not a terrible idea,” he said. “Yeah. That might work. I can still enchant the snitch to open up and reveal the ring like I’d planned. And the flowers can be arranged around the pitch.”  
“See? All isn’t lost,” Ron said. “I’m sure it doesn’t matter to Gin where you propose, though. All else fails, you can always just take the easy way and go to a romantic dinner like I did.”  
Harry snorted. “Romantic dinner? Ron, you took Hermione on a picnic,” he said. “And you both got soaking wet, because there was a storm, remember?”  
“What? I can’t control the weather,” Ron said. “And Hermione said she loved it. She said it was very romantic.”  
“I’m sure she did,” Harry said. “But I want it to be perfect. And I know Ginny is totally going to love the snitch thing.”  
“Sometimes I do think she might love Quidditch more than you,” Ron joked. Harry pretended to glare at him, and they both laughed. “Seriously, though. You’ll be fine. Hermione will find the ring and we will have it to you before you have to propose, okay? But you should probably make arrangements at Hogwarts.”  
“Right, yes,” Harry said. “Thanks, mate. I’m sorry for snapping at you before. I’m just... stressing out about this, I guess.”  
“Yeah. I know how you feel,” Ron said. “At least you don’t have to drink Liquid Luck like Neville did.”  
They both laughed again. Ron left, promising to have the ring back as soon as they could. Harry then decided to Floo over to Professor McGonagall’s office. It was a weekend, so he didn’t doubt she would be in her office.  
When he stepped out of the Headmistress’ fireplace, he was pleased that she was sitting at her desk, looking over some papers. She looked up, and gave a startled shout when she saw him. “Mr Potter!” She exclaimed, putting her hand over her heart. “Merlin’s Beard. You almost gave me a heart attack. What are you doing here?”  
“Sorry, Professor,” Harry said. “Is it OK if I sit?”  
She nodded and he took the chair opposite of hers. “Is anything the matter?” She asked. “Are you here to take up the job I offered you after all? You would be wonderful teaching Defence, you know.”  
“Everything’s fine. And no, that’s not why I’m here,” he said. “Actually. I came to ask if I could borrow the Quidditch pitch for tonight? And... and one of the snitches?”  
“The Quidditch pitch?” McGonagall repeated. “Whatever for?”  
Harry swallowed. “Er. Well. I’m planning to propose to Ginny tonight. I had originally booked the Harpies’ pitch—you know, where she plays. But it’s not available anymore so I had to find someplace else. And Ron suggested Hogwarts,” he said. “If not, it’s totally fine. I wouldn’t want any of the teams to be unable to practice because of me.”  
“No. No, the pitch is available,” McGonagall said. “We had a game today, so there’s no practice until Monday. And certainly, I can lend you one of the Snitches. May I ask what you plan to do with it, though?”  
“Er...” Harry felt his face warm. He didn’t really want to be discussing his proposal to Ginny with McGonagall. “I was going to enchant it to open up, and then place the ring inside... It’s more romantic than a ring box.”  
McGonagall smiled. “That is romantic,” she said. “When you are done with the Snitch, you may keep it. Consider it a wedding present, from Hogwarts to you. After all you did for us in the war, keeping a snitch is the least we could offer in return.”  
“Thank you, Professor,” Harry said. “I appreciate it. I’ll have someone come and set up the area around five-ish. Ginny and I will be here around six thirty, if all goes well.”  
“Alright. I’ll make sure no one’s on the pitch around those times,” she said.  
He stood to leave, going back to the fireplace. “And, Mr. Potter?” She said, and he turned to face her again.  
“Congratulations,” she said, smiling.  
Harry smiled widely back.  
Maybe everything would go well after all.

***

 

Ron and Hermione, thankfully, found the ring in time and handed it off to George. George was in charge of setting up the pitch before they arrived, planting the surprise fireworks and arranging flowers and planting the ring inside the snitch (Harry had taught him the spell to open it up). So far, everything had fallen into place. Now all that was left was the couple.  
Harry was waiting at the flat for Ginny to come home—she had been spending the day with Angelina—George’s girlfriend—shopping in Diagon Alley. Finally, at exactly five fifteen, Ginny came in the door with her arms filled with shopping bags, smiling.  
“Hey,” Harry said cheerfully, hoping his voice sounded normal. “Busy day?”  
She dropped her bags in the front hall and came over to kiss him. “Exhausting,” she said. “I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”  
Dinner. Harry froze. He hadn’t thought of that. “Actually, we’re expected at Hogwarts this evening,” he lied. It wasn’t unusual for him to be invited to Hogwarts randomly—he was often asked to come in and speak to the students—but it was a tad unusual as it was a Saturday. “McGonagall invited us for dinner, as thanks for coming in to speak or something like that. I’m not sure.”  
“Oh, okay.” Ginny said. “Probably another attempt to see if you want that job or not.”  
He nodded. “Yes... That’s probably it. You should probably get dressed. We’re supposed to dress nice,” he said.  
She kissed him on the cheek and went into the bedroom with her shopping bags to change. Harry exhaled in relief. She hadn’t noticed anything off, at least. Maybe he really could pull this off. The last thing he wanted was for Ginny to get suspicious and start asking questions. When she started asking him questions, he always got nervous and blurted out everything.  
A few minutes later, Ginny emerged from the bedroom. No matter how many times Harry saw her in dresses, his breath still caught in his throat every time. He highly doubted that he would ever get used to the fact that his future wife was as gorgeous as she was. Tonight, she was wearing a one-shouldered, knee-length navy blue dress. On anyone else, it might have looked plain and simple, but on Ginny, she made it look a hundred times sexier. She had done something with her hair, as well. It was curled, and the hair at the crown of her head was pinned back, in a sort of half-up, half-down style that was confusing and complicated to Harry, but looked beautiful on her. She had a pair of simple, silver strap heels and a light, black jacket in one hand and a small purse in the other. It was late spring, but the evenings were cold.  
“Is that what you’re wearing?” Ginny asked, and Harry gave himself a little shake to pull himself out of his daze. She smirked a little, noticing.  
“Er... Yeah. Is this OK? It’s formal,” he said. He was still in his work clothes—a pair of slacks and a navy blue, button-down shirt with a white tie; with a small smile, he realized that they matched. At least, in colour.  
“It’s fine,” she said. “You look handsome as always. But, hang on. Let me fix something.”  
She walked over to him, and then reached up and ran a hand through his hair. He had used some of the Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion as an attempt to make his hair lie flat, which it mostly succeeded in doing—he wanted to look his best for tonight—but Ginny obviously didn’t like it. She ruffled his hair until it was back to its normal look.  
“Better?” He asked.  
She stepped back to study him, and nodded. “I’m going to throw out that Potion when we get home,” she informed him. “I like your hair messy.”  
“Noted,” he said. “Shall we go, then?”  
He held out his arm. She took it, grinning. 

 

***

 

A few minutes later, they arrived in Hogsmeade village, where Harry told Ginny to wait outside the Three Broomsticks for a moment.  
Inside, he found George sitting at a table, with the Firebolt beside him. “Everything’s set, just like you planned,” George told him when he approached.  
“Good,” Harry said. “Thanks, George. I’ll make it up to you.”  
George just smiled. His smiles these days were few and hard to come by. No one except Ginny and Angelina were able to make him smile as Fred once had, and when he did smile at others, they were small ones. “Nah, don’t worry about it,” he said. “All I ask is that you make my sister happy, and you obviously do. So there’s nothing to make up.”  
Harry smiled. “Well. Thanks anyway,” he said. He grabbed the Firebolt and went back outside, where Ginny was standing.  
The smile dropped from his face immediately when he saw that Ginny looked angry.  
Uh oh. “Er, hey,” he said. “I have our ride to Hogwarts. W-what’s wrong?”  
“There is no dinner at Hogwarts that we’ve been invited to tonight, is there?” Ginny asked. Her arms were crossed and her eyes were sparkling with rage.  
Oh no. Harry’s heart sank. “W-what do you mean? Of course there is,” he said.  
“Don’t you dare lie to me, Harry James Potter,” Ginny said. He flinched at her tone. “I just saw Hagrid on his way to the Hogs’ Head. I was being polite and asked if we would see him at dinner this evening. Would you like to explain to me why Hagrid seemed certain that there is no such dinner at all? At least, not in the castle?”  
“Er...” Harry said. “Maybe McGonagall meant it to be just the three of us?”  
Ginny glared. “According to Hagrid, McGonagall is in the Great Hall at this very moment,” she said. “What the Hell is going on?”  
Harry sighed. He couldn’t lie to her—it would only piss her off. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I... I guess I was trying to surprise you with a romantic evening, just the two of us. You’ve been so stressed lately about the Harpies, so I thought we could have dinner on the Quidditch pitch and after go for a moonlit flight. You said that always relaxed you. I just wanted to plan a nice evening. I got permission from McGonagall to use the field and everything.”  
Her glare disappeared, and her face softened. “Oh,” she said. “Oh. That... Oh. I see.”  
He took a breath. “Are... are you mad?”  
“No!” She exclaimed, staring at him. “Why would I be mad? You were only planning a romantic evening and you wanted it to be a surprise. It’s very sweet. I’m... I’m sorry for attacking you like that.”  
“It’s fine,” he said. “Now, can we go?”  
Ginny nodded, and they both climbed onto the Firebolt. He let her go in front—she loved nothing more than flying the Firebolt—and he wrapped his arms around her waist. She sped off towards Hogwarts, totally unaware of what was about to happen.  
He had been so close to having the entire plan ruined. He counted himself very lucky that he was able to fix it, and what he had planned was still a go. At least now he wouldn’t have to make an excuse as to why they were going to the Quidditch pitch instead of up to the castle for dinner. As far as Ginny knew, it was just a normal romantic evening. Well, not normal. Harry had never done anything quite so extravagant for a date. They usually just went for picnics or out to eat. He had taken her to the bowling alley once. Another time they had gone roller skating—both of which she was very good at. He had taken her to the cinemas a few times. Nothing as extravagant as a romantic dinner on the Quidditch pitch, just the two of them.  
They arrived at Hogwarts a short time later, and Ginny landed perfectly on the Quidditch field. They got off the broom, and Ginny stood there for a moment, staring around her.  
He grinned. George had, of course, gone above and beyond. There were floating candles and rose petals decorating the grass, all forming a path to a white table covered in more rose petals that sat in the very middle of the field. Surrounding the table were more floating lights, circling above the table just like they did in the great hall, except these candles were in little jars. The table was set with gold goblets and plates, and a vase of roses sitting in the middle. The snitch had to be hiding inside of the vase, he thought. It was visible, but not so obvious Ginny would see it immediately, just like he had said.  
“Wow,” Ginny said finally, awe in her voice. “When you said... romantic dinner, I thought it would be a table, under the stars, with a few candles. How did you even have time to plan this? You were at work all day.”  
“Well,” Harry said. “I had some help. But I’m not telling you from who.”  
She smiled. They walked over to the table together, and he pulled out her chair for her. “Thank you,” she said, sitting down.  
He sat across from her. He was trying not to search for the snitch, but he couldn’t help it. “So, it works just like at the Yule Ball.”  
“Okay,” she said. They both ordered champagne for their goblets and Ginny ordered fried chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy and green beans. He had cooked it for her once, and she had fallen in love with it. Harry, who was too nervous to really eat anything, ordered the same. They began to eat, and while Ginny was immersed in his food, he tried to scan the area for a glint of a golden snitch.  
“This is amazing,” Ginny said after a few minutes. “This definitely tops all the other dates we’ve been on.”  
He grinned. “I knew you would like it,” he said. “I wanted tonight to be special. Since we haven’t really had time to go on a date recently, with both of us being busy with work and all. I thought it’d be nice to have a nice evening just the two of us.”  
“Well, it’s exactly what I needed,” she said. “So Angelina was telling me that she thinks George is going to propose soon.”  
He had taken the wrong time to take a drink, because the moment the word propose came out of her mouth, he choked on the champagne. “Er... Really? That’s great,” he said.  
She frowned at him. “Yeah, it is. She’s not sure yet, but she’s almost positive about it,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those two were engaged before summer. Which means we’ll have another wedding to celebrate soon...”  
She looked at him pointedly here, and he avoided looking at her, sure that she would see right through him. “Oh, yes. That... will be... fun,” he said. “They haven’t been together that long, though. Angelina could be reading into things too quickly.”  
“Harry, they’ve been together for two years. Almost as long as we have,” she said. “Plus, Angelina was there for George after... after Fred... Anyway, they’ve been through a lot. It brought them closer together. We’ve only been together for three years.”  
“But I’ve known you since you were eleven,” he reminded her. “Before that, even. We met when you were ten and I was eleven. Remember?”  
There was enough light that she couldn’t hide her blush. “That doesn’t count. Besides, Angelina and George have been friends for a long time, too,” she said.  
“True,” he said. “I guess it’s not fair of me to say that. Every relationship is different. I mean, Neville and Hannah were together five years before he proposed to her. Ron and Hermione took forever to realize that they were in love with each other, but then it was pretty quick after that. It’s different for everyone.”  
“Right,” she said.  
They fell silent, returning to their meals. Harry decided it was long enough, and he couldn’t find the snitch anywhere. “Er... Will you excuse me, for a moment?” He asked.  
“Sure,” she said, frowning.  
He got up from the table, and walked far enough away that she couldn’t see what he was doing. She was probably suspicious, but he was too anxious for it to matter.  
He pulled out his wand from the back of his pocket, and used a non-verbal summoning spell to summon the snitch to him. If he couldn’t find it, he would have to make it come to him. He wasn’t going to ruin the night.  
Something exploded behind him, and Ginny screamed. Harry turned. One of the candles—the one that had been directly above his chair—had exploded, and something small and gold was fluttering toward him.  
George, Harry thought angrily. I thought I said to put the Snitch somewhere visible but not obvious! How was I supposed to find that?  
Luckily, he caught the snitch and went back to Ginny, who was using her wand to clear up the broken glass from the jar, which had fallen onto his plate and chair. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what happened. I was just sitting here and then it... it exploded! And something came out of it!”  
“It’s okay,” he said. She was still trying to clean up the glass, but he grabbed her hand. “Ginny. Don’t worry about it for now.”  
She turned to look at him, and noticed the snitch. “W-why are you holding a Snitch? Is that what came out of the jar? Why in Merlin’s name was a Snitch hiding in a candle?” She asked.  
“I admit I wasn’t sure about that myself,” he said. “When I said visible, but not obvious, I thought it would be with the flowers, or something.”  
“With the flowers?” She repeated, confused.  
His heart was pounding. “Do you remember the Snitch that Dumbledore left me? The one that said ‘I open at the close’?” He asked.  
“Yes,” she said. “The one that had the Resurrection Stone inside of it. Why?”  
He smiled. “Well, I figured out what spell Dumbledore used to plant it inside. I’ve perfected it now, but this particular snitch will only open at your touch,” he said.  
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why is this so important?”  
He took a breath. “Trust me?” He asked. She looked very confused, but she nodded, and reached out for the snitch.  
The moment her fingertips brushed the Snitch, he knew the writing had appeared on it, because her eyes widened. He had marry me? engraved onto the snitch. “W—what?” She whispered, tears shining in her eyes.  
Harry got down on one knee, taking her hand. “Ginny Weasley,” he said, “you are, without a doubt, the bravest, most beautiful, and most amazing woman I have ever known. You are my true north, the brightest of them, always guiding me when I feel lost. I can’t imagine living without you. I love you, more than I can even explain. Will you marry me?”  
He couldn’t believe he had said all that without stammering once. He took her hand with the one that held the snitch, and at her touch, the snitch opened in the middle, revealing the ring that he had chosen weeks ago.  
“Harry,” Ginny whispered. “I...”  
He gulped. He felt like an idiot. Of course she wasn’t going to say yes. Why would she? He had fooled himself into thinking she would, and now he felt like a total fool.  
“Yes,” she said finally.  
He stared at her. “R-really?”  
“Yes,” she repeated. “Yes, yes, of course I’ll marry you, Harry Potter. I’ve wanted to marry you since I was ten. Did you honestly think I’d say no?”  
He exhaled, relieved. “You kind of scared me for a minute there,” he admitted. “W-would you like to put the ring on?”  
She nodded eagerly, and he carefully took the ring out, and slipped it onto her finger. He felt tears threatening to fall when he did so. Finally seeing the sparkling diamond on her finger was like a dream come true.  
He stood, putting the snitch into his pocket. “I love you,” she said.  
“I love you, too,” he said.  
And he wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, but then they were kissing, and she was smiling and he felt his heart was going to burst.  
As they kissed, fireworks exploded in the sky around them. It was the perfect moment, and all he knew was pure bliss.


End file.
